Apocalypse Return
by The Wanlorn
Summary: It's all over. But there's a surprise in it for Harry. R/R/E
1. Chapter One

Author:  The Wanlorn

Title: Apocalypse Return 1/?

Summary: It's all over.  But there's a surprise in it for Harry.

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: _Definitely_ The Death.  I mean, that's what spurred the whole thing.  

Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Distribution: Anywhere, just ask first, okay?

Disclaimer: Everyone and all the places belong to JK Rowling.  The plot belongs to me.  No money is being made off of this.  It's purely because I enjoy doing useless things that will never get me any cash.

Thank Yous: Thank you Lexi for beta'ing.  I heart the way you edit my stuff!!!  :-P  Thanks to April for giving it a second once-over.  :-D  I heart you both!!!  Many thanks!

Author's Note: I stayed up all night to finish the book, then I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, trying to remind myself that he was probably going to pull a Gandalf and that he's not real, anyway.  I am _not_ ashamed to admit that I cried like a baby!

**Apocalypse Return**

****

**Chapter One**

            It was over.  The nightmare was finally over.  Lord Voldemort's body lay on the ground, Harry unsteadily wavering over him.  His last thought before he crumpled to the ground, unconscious and near death, was that it had cost too much.

----

            When Harry woke up, he was lying in a bed.  The curtain that obscured his view of the rest of the room left him to assume he was in St. Mungo's.  Vaguely, he wondered what floor he was on.  The thought didn't stick in his mind, though.  It faded quickly as he listlessly stared at the ceiling.  He wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious, nor did he really care.

            Voldemort was dead.  Undoubtedly, there would be various raucous parties going on across the wizard world, celebrating the final demise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  It was for real this time.  Harry *_knew_* it was, the same way he knew when Arthur Weasley was attacked two years ago, the same way he always knew anything about Voldemort.  Yes, everyone would be celebrating.

            But not Harry.  Of course, the price *_he_* had to pay, the price everyone did, was not too great.  It could never be.  Even if Harry were the last person on Earth right now, it would be fine.  But oh, it was high.  All the galleons in Gringotts couldn't cover the cost of the loss of life.

            Cedric had been the first.  The first casualty of the great war.  Then Sirius.  The only one Harry could call family.  At that time, he thought he would rather be dead.  If only he had known.

            Just as he was beginning to become closer to Harry, becoming the father he had lost twice, Lupin followed Sirius to the grave.  The Weasley family showed a remarkable ability to get out of all the scrapes they got into.  But all good luck comes to an end, and George succumbed to the endless sleep.

            Never would Harry forget seeing Neville murdered right in front of him, a giant throwing the clumsy student headfirst into a tree, Harry's protective spell seconds too late to save him.

            In this last epic battle, as was to be expected, more lives had been lost, lives of people he knew.  Snape, with whom he had been getting along with slightly more, had been the first to fall.  Moody… Tonks… Hagrid.  Handfuls of students from Hogwarts.

            Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione.  The last he had seen, before following Voldemort on a wild, violent chase, the three of them were alive.  His two best friends and his mentor.  That might not be true anymore, though.  Ron had been badly hurt, Hermione no less so.  If it hadn't been for Dumbledore following, Harry never would have been able to defeat Lord Voldemort.  But there had been a price to pay for that, too.

            Maybe he was the only one left.  A lonesome hero, who didn't deserve it.  There had been far too many mistakes made by him, too many deaths rested solely on *_his_* poor judgment.  No, he was *_no_* hero.

----

            He woke up again, roused by the sound of the curtains around his bed rustling.  Someone was coming in; just a nurse.  He barley spared her a glance.  The terrible sorrow for all those no longer traversing the living earth was all consuming.

            "Welcome back to the conscious world, Mr. Potter."  The nurse's brisk voice barely registered.  "Do you feel up to talking to anyone right now?"

            Harry didn't answer.  How could he feel like talking to anyone?  Ever?  The question was ludicrous.  The nurse seemed to understand; she left quickly without saying a word a few moments later.  But Harry could still hear her, talking to someone just outside of the enclosing white.  Everything was white.  White and pure, not a hint of death.  None of the blood on his hands marred the surroundings, the pristine white.  But he could see it.  Everyone he cared about, strangers, Muggles, the Enemy… It covered him.

            "Perhaps what I have to say will make him more responsive."  That was Dumbledore's voice.  Make whom more responsive?

            "I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore.  Maybe tomorrow…"

            Harry didn't hear the rest of the conversation, nor was he interested.  Instead, he fell back into the death-like slumber, deep enough to escape the dreams and nightmares.

----

            The light of the enchanted candles bounced off of the white surrounding him, the harsh glare hurting his eyes as he blinked them open.  These fits of consciousness were becoming annoying.  Why couldn't he just stay asleep?  *_Why*_?

            There had to be a reason for this infernal light.  He allowed his head to roll to the side.  Ah, yes.  Somebody was sitting there.  Long white beard, silver hair carefully combed… Dumbledore.  Harry wished everyone would just leave him alone.  Two people were far more than he wanted to see.

            "Harry."  Dumbledore spoke quietly.  "How are you feeling?"

            He wasn't sure hwy he bothered, but he tested out his voice.  "How do you *_think_* I'm feeling?"

            "Understandable," Dumbledore replied calmly to the scathing, raspy voice.  "Ron and Hermione send their regrets that they couldn't be here when you woke up."

            "They're alive?" Harry asked, slightly more interested in what Dumbledore had to say.  He had assumed them to have died.  "Where are they?"

            "At their respective homes.  I'm sure you understand – their parents are a bit reluctant to let them out of sight.  With good reason.  There are still quite a few Death Eaters around.  The Weasleys are dropping by tomorrow and probably bringing Hermione with them."

            Harry had no response for that.  *_They_* all had families who cared about them.  He had lost everyone who fit the description, except for perhaps Dumbledore.  And *_maybe_* Mrs. Weasley still viewed him as one of her own children, but that was a big maybe.  And if she did, where was she?  How many times had he almost gotten a member of that family killed?  Too many to count.

            Seeing that Harry wasn't going to speak again, Dumbledore continued.  "Harry… Just before you killed Voldemort, we – the remaining members of the Order – discovered something about him and what he was doing.

            "About how he came back and grew in power."

            It provoked little, if any reaction from Harry, so Dumbledore continued.

            "Voldemort had to have a source of life in order to continue to live.  Through the many years of his original bid for power, the top Death Eaters in the world worked and researched together.  They searched for a way, should the inevitable happen, to bring Lord Voldemort back and give him chance after chance after chance at success.  Provided, of course, it was not you who defeated him."

            Dumbledore paused in the telling, trying to determine if Harry had any inkling as to what was to come.  The young man was staring at the ceiling, however, his eyes glazed.  Dumbledore couldn't even be sure if he was listening.

            "And they discovered what they were looking for.  Minutes before Lord Voldemort murdered your parents, they enacted the spell."

            "Why do I care?" Harry interrupted, his voice lifeless.  Darkness couldn't claim him with this voice buzzing incessantly.

            "When someone was murdered by either him or one of his followers, the essence of that person was taken and used to power him.  Their bodies went along with them and were stored in a massive underground chamber, replaced here by remarkably realistic simulacrums.

            "They didn't count on Voldemort being defeated by you in a final battle.  At the moment of his death, every essence he had taken and used was released back into its body."

            It took a moment for that to register on Harry's brain.  "What do you mean?" he asked.  Before he got his hopes up that Lupin, George, Hagrid… That they were all alive once more, he had to make sure that Dumbledore actually meant what he was alluding to.

            "I mean that all of the dead on our side since Voldemort returned are no longer dead."

            For an instant, Harry met his eyes.  But the he returned to staring at the ceiling.  "It's not possible."

            Dumbledore laughed gently.  "Anything is possible, Harry.  Come, get up out of that bed and I will show you."

            There was a marked lack of enthusiasm as Harry dragged himself out of the hospital bed.  Fine.  Maybe all of the people murdered were back.  But he still mourned the death of the person closest to him since his parents died.  Sirius had fallen through the veil; he hadn't been murdered.  Nothing would bring his godfather back.

            His legs were shaky as he stood up, so Dumbledore grabbed his shoulder to help steady him.  There was surprising strength in the old man.

            "How long have I been out?" Harry asked perfunctionally.

            "Only a month," Dumbledore replied before pulling back the curtain around the bed.

~~End Chapter One~~


	2. Chapter Two

Author:  The Wanlorn

Title: Apocalypse Return 2/?

Summary: It's all over.  But there's a surprise in it for Harry.

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: _Definitely_ The Death.  I mean, that's what spurred the whole thing.  

Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Distribution: Anywhere, just ask first, okay?

Disclaimer: Everyone and all the places belong to JK Rowling.  The plot belongs to me.  No money is being made off of this.  It's purely because I enjoy doing useless things that will never get me any cash.

Thank Yous: Thank you Lexi for beta'ing.  I heart the way you edit my stuff!!!  :-P

Author's Note: Hmm… I don't like this fic all that much anymore.  I mean, I'll finish it and all, but… I dunno, I don't think it's all that good.  What do you guys think?

Chapter Two

            Harry wasn't in a private room, not even a semi-private room.  No, he was one of many beds in a ward.  Some weren't occupied; some had curtains pulled around them, but most were wide open, the occupants easily seen.

            "Hello Harry!" a young man in the bed to the right of Harry said brightly.  Turning his head to view the speaker, Harry was shocked by the flaming red hair and freckles of a Weasley.

            "G- George?"

            "The one and only!" A cocky grin flashed across his face.  When he saw that Harry had realized that the rest of the beds were spaced farther apart than their two, he informed him, "Mum put up a royal fuss until the nurses moved us closer together so she could sit with both of us at once.  D- Professor Dumbledore finally made 'er, the rest of the family, and Hermione go home and get some rest."

            "Hermione?" Harry questioned, his head spinning.  He was talking to George, George who had died a year ago.

            "Yeah.  Her family's staying with us.  Just in case."

            The utter shock wearing off, Harry began to take in George's appearance.  He looked like he had gone through hell.  If it had really been a month – and Dumbledore had no reason to lie to him – then Harry couldn't *_imagine_* what George must have looked like the very first day.  Now, he was gaunt; his skin hung loosely over his bones.  Gray circles shadowed his eyes, but Harry knew they had been a bruised black, probably only a couple days before.

            "Let's move along, Harry."  Dumbledore, who had been hanging back, stepped forward now.

            "Yeah, Harry.  You had us all real worried you weren't going to wake up.  Besides, don't you need to make sure that it's possible that everyone else is alive again?"  George winked at Harry, then returned to looking through a book filled with tiny, cramped writing.  It looked almost like an accounting book to Harry.

            He moved on without saying another word, Dumbledore following closely behind.  There were quite a few enclosed beds in a row, so Harry moved across to the other side of the room.  The first person he laid eyes on was Lupin.  The man looked just as bad as George, and seemed to have aged quite a few years beyond the expected amount.  His eyes were closed, but as Harry approached, they snapped open.

            "Harry!" he exclaimed, sitting up and swinging his legs around off the side of the bed so he could hug Harry.

            Harry moved forward and gladly embraced the man, struggling to control his emotions.  It wouldn't do to break down in tears of joy and relief in front of an entire ward of people.  But he hugged Lupin tightly, receiving a hug no less intense in return.

            Harry couldn't think of anything to say.  After all, what were you supposed to say to someone returned from the dead?  But there were no words needed.  When Lupin let him go, he stepped back half a pace.  Somehow, he felt that he should be grateful that most of the people he cared about weren't as dead as he had thought.  But there was just an overwhelming bitterness.  Only the people who had been *_murdered_* came back.  That's what Dumbledore had said.  Not the people who had tripped and disappeared through a black curtain.

            "I hear you put on quite a show at the end," Lupin commented.

            "I suppose," Harry said.  The furious spell battle could be considered that.  Now he was suddenly exhausted.  The apathy that had struck his limbs only served to compound the deep tiredness that was already there.

            "I'm proud of you," Lupin said quietly, his hands gripping the side of the bed.  After hearing the wizards at St. Mungo's say that they weren't sure if Harry would ever wake up, he wanted to touch the young man to make sure he was okay.  He remembered back when the inseparable trio had first discovered he was a lycanthrope.  Harry was the only one who didn't show disgust and fear of his condition.  Anger and hatred for helping Sirius before the truth was known, but none because he was a werewolf.  There were few enough people like that in the world, and only one whom he considered almost a son.  When Sirius died, he had taken over the role, as his best friend would have wanted.

            "Thanks," Harry replied, a sad half-smile passing across his face.

            The hollow, black circles around Harry's eyes and sunken appearance of his face worried Lupin even more than the long sleep had.  There were some things that magic couldn't heal.  "You look exhausted."

            "I am." Weariness colored Harry's voice and he turned away, slowly going back to his own bed.  Before sitting down, he surveyed the rest of the room.  It seemed to be filled only with people he had known.  The ones he missed terribly.  Hagrid in the far corner, his half-giant body taking up multiple beds.  Neville, two beds to the left of Lupin.  It felt as though someone was watching him, and he turned to see Mad-Eye Moody's good eye boring into him, his magical eye spinning slowly.  A shock of bright hair showed where Tonks was.  And there was Snape, his pale skin almost translucent.

            Harry fell back onto the bed, ignoring Dumbledore's concerned look, deep sleep immediately claiming him.  Once again, too deep to dream.

----

            "Shush, Ron!  You might wake him up!" The whispered hiss half-roused Harry out of his deep drowse.

            "So?" Ron hissed back indignantly.  "He's *_been_* 'asleep' for three bleedin' weeks!  I'd rather wake him up to just make sure he's still…"

            "Don't say that!" Hermione's voice hitched.  "Lupin said he was up and around earlier today…" She drifted off uncertainly.

            "Yeah, I was," Harry told them in a groggy voice.

            "Harry!" Hermione's shriek pierced his eardrums, almost immediately bringing on a headache.  She lunged forward, wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug, crying and kissing his cheek.

            "Hermione!" Ron finally said.  "Don't hog him all to yourself!"

            With a relieved laugh, she sat back and wiped away the tears on her face, and Harry was immediately assaulted by Ron.  The youngest boy of the Weasley family hugged him tightly, too.  Harry realized that he must have been pretty bad off for them to be reacting so.  When Ron sat back in the chair that had been pulled up to the bed, the three of them just stared at each other for a few minutes.  They had seen things over the past two years that most witches and wizards never saw in their entire lifetime, culminating in the last battle with Voldemort and his army.  There were scars - mental and physical - that none of them would ever be rid of.  But because of what they had been through, they didn't need to speak.

            "So how did it go?" Ron asked a while later.  His chair was touching Hermione's and his arm was around her waist.  They had been dating since the middle of sixth year.  It certainly hadn't lessened their fighting as everyone had hoped, but it made it much more bearable.

            "Bloody and violent," Harry responded, not needing to ask what Ron meant.  "What do you guys know about what's going on?"

            "Depends on what you mean," answered Hermione.  "Dumbledore's still not telling us a lot.  Namely, how they managed to keep almost the entire war from the Muggles' notice."

            "You're staying with the Weasley's?" Harry started with the easy question.

            Ron laughed at that.  "I know, there wasn't much as it was.  But Dumbledore wanted all Muggle-born students and their families to stay with a wizarding family.  And mine was the obvious choice for Hermione's."

            Now it was Hermoine's turn to laugh.  "Mr. Weasley is having a field day with my parents."

            That managed to get a small smile from Harry.  "I can only imagine.  So," he lowered his voice, "why is everyone here?  I mean, it looks as though most of them could go back to their homes."

            Hermione shook her head.  "No, they can't.  Professor Dumbledore told us that it took a great toll on them to be dead, or as close as they were.  You should have seen them before."

            She stopped talking and Harry finally prompted her.  "What do you mean?"

            She shuddered instead of answering, so Ron spoke up, his eyes haunted.  "She means that they looked almost like skeletons.  It was … George…" He paused for a moment, swallowing a few times.  "They're keeping everyone here as a precaution.  For at least another week.  Some people more."

            "You mean like me?" Harry asked.

            Ron nodded and looked like he was going to say more, but he didn't.  They were all quiet for a while, not talking at all until Mrs. Weasley came back in.  She immediately bustled over, Ron and Hermione rolling their eyes as they moved out of the way, going to talk to other people.

            "Harry!  How are you feeling dear?" Yet another hug and a kiss on the cheek.  "We've been so worried about you!"

            "I'm feeling all right, I guess."  He pasted a fake smile on his face.

            "Keep down the racket, will ya mum?" George asked crossly from the opposite bed.  "*_Some_* of us are trying to sleep."

            "Shush, George," she scolded.  "Really, Harry, how are you?"

            "I'm fine, honestly," he lied.  "Just a little tired."

            "Oh, you should get your rest, then.'  She smiled warmly and hugged him again.  "I'm so relieved that you're alright."

            Harry smiled until she turned away, then sighed quietly in relief.  Right now, he just didn't feel up to Mrs. Weasley.  It was true that he was tired, but that wasn't all.  He wanted to crawl into a ditch and die.  When he finally looked over from contemplating the whiteness of the ceiling, he saw Ginny walking dejectedly through the door.

~~End Chapter Two~~


	3. Chapter Three

Author:  The Wanlorn

Title: Apocalypse Return 3/6

Summary: It's all over.  But there's a surprise in it for Harry.

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: _Definitely_ The Death.  I mean, that's what spurred the whole thing.  

Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Distribution: Anywhere, just ask first, okay?

Disclaimer: Everyone and all the places belong to JK Rowling.  Except for Lexi.  That character's mine.  The plot belongs to me.  No money is being made off of this.  It's purely because I enjoy doing useless things that will never get me any cash.

Thank Yous: Thank you Lexi for beta'ing.  I heart the way you edit my stuff!!!  :-P  Thanks to April for giving it a second once-over.  :-D  I heart you both!!!  Many thanks!

Author's Note: Gah!  I got sucked into reading fics over at Gryffindor Tower… I was up _all_ night last night.  Shame on people for writing that well!!!  This chapter's almost total fluff… cuz I like fluff.  It makes me feel all warm and happy inside!

Apology:  I'm an ass.  What can I say?  I've had this story finished since _September_, and I completely forgot about finishing posting it.  Needless to say, I'm am dreadfully sorry to everyone who was reading it and liking it.  :-\  Please forgive me?

**Chapter Three**

            As soon as he saw her, Harry sat up and swung his feet off the bed.  It always broke his heart to see her sad, even before he screwed up the courage and asked her to go to the first Hogsmeade weekend with him his sixth year.

            "Ginny!" he called.

            Her head snapped up, beautiful curly red hair flying around her in a cloud.  "Ohmigod Harry!" she exclaimed and flew over to him.

            Within seconds, he was wrapped in a bear hug, Ginny crying softly.  All of the doubts he had been harboring disappeared as she began to frantically kiss his face.  When she hadn't been there when he woke up the first time, nor the next, he couldn't help but worry.  It would be perfectly natural, and even *_expected_* for her to decide the trouble he attracted wasn't worth it.  That there were plenty other better-looking, less troublesome men out there.  People with fewer issues.

            "Oh Harry, I was so *_scared_*," she whispered.

            "Shh," he whispered back, holding her close to him.  "I'm okay.  Shh, shh, sweetheart."

            Nothing he lied about got past Ginny, though.  Never.  Of course, she hadn't always had the courage or temerity to confront him on it, but now she did.  She sat back, still straddling his hips, and stared silently at him, scrutinizing him.  He managed to hold her gaze for a full minute before having to look away and find something else to stare at in a nonchalant manner.  Unfortunately, he turned his head and met George's eyes.  It was quite clear that the lone Weasley twin was struggling not to laugh.  The furious glare Harry sent his way only served to strengthen the sparkle of mirth in his eyes.

            "Harry." Her voice held a no-nonsense tone to it.

            "Ginny… Please.  Not now?"

            Her sidelong glance toward her brother told him that she understood.  George looked absolutely *_delighted_* when they both tried to glare him down at once.  With a disgusted sigh, Ginny got off of Harry reluctantly and dragged a chair up until it was almost touching the skinny bed.  For the next fifteen minutes, she was content to sit there with him, absolutely silent, one hand clasped in his, the other stroking gently through his wild black hair.  He didn't talk, content with staring at the white ceiling.  So much white…

            His attention was drawn towards the door for a moment when it opened.  A short girl, her dirty blonde hair swinging around her face, sauntered in.

            "Lexi!" George exclaimed as she made her way to his bed.  Harry vaguely recognized her as George's last flame.

            "It would be wonderful to know just *_where_* he came up with that nickname for her," Ginny commented sarcastically.

            A faint smile crossed Harry's face.  "Her real name's Jess, right?"

            The two were already engaged in full-frontal snogging, oblivious to Harry and Ginny watching.  "Yeah.  They're perfect for each other, sure.  But, I mean, come on.  In a *_hospital_*?  With mum liable to bust in here any minute to visit one of you two?"

            "Not to mention the beds full of other people in here," Harry added dryly.

            George, obviously listening to their conversation, laughed as he broke away from Lexi.  "That's right, Harry my boy.  Perhaps Gin-gin would like the same attention."  He winked, setting Lexi firmly on his lap.

            "Ugh.  Would you mind if I close the curtain, Harry?"

            "Not at all."  Of course he didn't mind.  He felt too exposed the way he was open to the entire room.  The rest of the people in the room were chatting between beds, but Harry just wanted to be alone.  Except for Ginny, who never pressed him to talk if he *_really_* didn't want to.

            Now, with a semblance of privacy surrounding them, Ginny sat on the edge of the bed.  The sad, sad look on his face made her want to hold him in her arms and cuddle him until he smiled again.  But he looked so fragile that now that she was over her initial exuberance, she feared that moving him would cause him to shatter.

            "Harry, really?" she asked, leaning over him.  "How are you?"

            "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he returned crossly.  "Don't I look as fine as I'm expected to be?"

            "Yes you do," she soothed, dropping her head down to kiss him.  "But you know that's not what *_I_* mean."

            "Not today, Ginny.  Okay?  Not today."

            "Okay.  Don't get yourself worked up."

            "Don't get worked up?" he asked incredulously.  "*_Don't_* get *_worked up_*?  Gee, it's not like I have anything to *_get worked up_* about.  I didn't just almost get *_killed_* by the wizard who killed my parents or anything like that.  There's no reason why I wouldn't want to talk about it."

            "Okay, you're right Harry," she tried to placate him.

            "And hey, watching my friends die was no biggie.  It's not like seeing them alive again has thrown my mind into utter turmoil.  It wasn't a big shock that I was expected to digest.  No, not at *_all_*."  He was shaking, trembling under the thin blanket.  Whether it was from rage or delayed fear, he was too worked up to tell.

            Ginny carefully pulled him until he was half lying across her lap, cradling him and murmuring soothingly.  Before everything he had been almost the same size as her, and only a little bit heavier.  The starvation diet the Dursleys had him on made sure of that.  But now, he was frighteningly thin, alarmingly light.

            He sighed heavily, allowing her to cuddle him.  "I just want to go *_home_*," he whispered.

            Ginny almost choked.  Her mouth gaped open and shut a couple times before she managed to force some words out, her voice strangled.  "You… you want to go b-b-back… to the Dursely's?"

            For a moment, Harry looked up at her, shocked.  "No, of course not!" He was blushing.  "Y- your house is home.  Hogwarts is home, but since the year is over…"

            His eyes bored into hers for a moment before he lost his nerve and looked away.  "I'll have mum talk to whoever's in charge.  See what she can do."

            "Thanks, Gin."  She lay down on the tiny bed, Harry almost on top of her.  He snuggled into her warm side, suddenly freezing cold, cold enough to be shivering.

            Ginny held him in silence for a while.  Sometimes, he needed that.  Sometimes he needed her, his friends, the few teachers that were his family, to just be close to him for a while.  To make sure he was loved.  He wasn't insecure… he just liked to be reassured once in a while.  But she was the only one who understood that, who finally figured out why there were times when he just sat quietly with his friends and listened to them talk.  Or just cuddle with her for long periods of time.

            "I love you, Harry," Ginny said quietly.

            He didn't answer; he never did.  The first time she had said those three words, he had just stared at her, his mouth gaping open.  Then he had looked away.  He looked away to hide the tears threatening, but she hadn't known that.  It had been weeks before she would speak to him again.  It was Ron and Hermione who finally made them talk to each other, sick of seeing the two of them wandering around miserable.

            The first thing he did was apologize.  Then he explained.  He told her how he just couldn't say it because he was cursed.  Because everyone he loved died.  And he didn't want to lose her.  She had tried to point out that wasn't true.  Ron and Hermione were still fine, still alive.  He told her that as irrational as it may seem to her, he just couldn't say it, no matter how he felt.  Because maybe if he didn't say it, nothing would happen.

            She understood then, just like she did now.  When he looked away from her, she tipped his face back and kissed him gently.  "I know, I understand.  I know you love me too."

            Eventually, he fell back asleep, still in Ginny's arms.

~~End Chapter Three~~__


	4. Chapter Four

Author:  The Wanlorn

Title: Apocalypse Return 4/6

Summary: It's all over.  But there's a surprise in it for Harry.

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: _Definitely_ The Death.  I mean, that's what spurred the whole thing.  

Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Distribution: Anywhere, just ask first, okay?

Disclaimer: Everyone and all the places belong to JK Rowling.  Except for Lexi.  That character's mine.  The plot belongs to me.  No money is being made off of this.  It's purely because I enjoy doing useless things that will never get me any cash.

Thank Yous: Thank you Lexi for beta'ing.  I heart the way you edit my stuff!!!  :-P  Thanks to April for giving it a second once-over.  :-D  I heart you both!!!  Many thanks!

Author's Note: Short and sweet.  I'm not posting anymore until tomorrow.  If I forget again, could someone please email me once a day or something until I update?  Thanks bunches!!

**Chapter Four**

            When Harry woke up once more, Ginny was still there, sitting on one of the chairs.

            "Hey Gin?" Something had been preying on his mind while he slept.  He didn't know why he hadn't thought about this before.

            "Yeah, Harry?"

            "If… If everyone who was killed… If they're alive again… Are my parents…?"

            She was already shaking her head and looking as though she were going to start crying.  "No, I'm sorry, Harry.  Everyone a- after them…"

            Harry turned his head away from her.  He would not cry.  He would *_not_* start to cry.  It's not like he had gotten his hopes up, anyway.  If his parents were alive again, wouldn't Dumbledore have taken him to them first?  Of course.  If the tears started now, he was afraid that they would never stop.

            "Sweet Merlin, Harry, I'm sorry." He could feel her fingers running through his hair.

            After a few minutes, he turned back to face her, his eyes filled with sadness.  "Well, it's what I expected.  I just had to make sure."

            Ginny was chewing on her lip in an indecisive manner, staring at him and thinking hard.  "Harry… Dumbledore didn't want any of us to tell you this until the two of you were feeling much stronger, but…"

            "If Dumbledore says something like that, it's probably for the best," Harry told her wearily.

            "Not this time, I think.  I'm pretty sure he just doesn't want you to excite yourself into a heart attack, and… well… Harry, *_everyone_* who died came back."

            "No," Harry told her bitterly.  "Only those who were killed."

            Ginny sighed.  "Yes, Harry.  Those who were killed.  And just because you don't view something as murder doesn't mean it wasn't.  Come on, get out of that bed."

            It took him a moment to overcome the apathy and get out of the white bed.  He had a sneaking suspicion of what she meant, but refused to allow his hopes to rise.  Over and over, he told himself that she was alluding to something different, something completely different.  But he couldn't bring himself to ask outright; better to pretend he had no assumptions.

            Ginny stuck her head out of the wrap-around curtain first, making sure the coast was clear.  Running into a nurse or Dumbledore would put a quick end to this adventure.  While all of the adults thought they knew what was best, she knew different.  This was the only way to get Harry to stop moping and sulking, and make him get better faster.

            Scuttling out and shushing the people conspiratorially, Ginny dragged Harry behind her.  From across the room, Lupin gave them a thumbs-up and next to them, George winked and motioned for them to hurry up.  When they got down through the door out to the corridor, Harry realized that he was already tired.  Once again, the fact that he had barely won the battle made itself known.

            After sticking her head out of the door and looking both ways t make sure the hallway was clear, Ginny hurried Harry into the corridor, then immediately into the room next door.  She clapped a hand over his mouth so he wouldn't make any noise, even though he wasn't planning on speaking in the first place.  Once she was sure he was going to be quiet, she darted over to the lone bed to check on its occupant.

            "Oh good, you're awake," she said as she leaned over the person lying there.

~~End Chapter Four~~


	5. Chapter Five

Author:  The Wanlorn

Title: Apocalypse Return 5/6

Summary: It's all over.  But there's a surprise in it for Harry.

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: _Definitely_ The Death.  I mean, that's what spurred the whole thing.  

Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Distribution: Anywhere, just ask first, okay?

Disclaimer: Everyone and all the places belong to JK Rowling.  Except for Lexi.  That character's mine.  The plot belongs to me.  No money is being made off of this.  It's purely because I enjoy doing useless things that will never get me any cash.

Thank Yous: Thank you Lexi for beta'ing.  I heart the way you edit my stuff!!!  :-P  Thanks to April for giving it a second once-over.  :-D  I heart you both!!!  Many thanks!

Author's Note: Wrapping it up now.

**Chapter Five**

            "C'mon, Harry.  Come over here."

            Ginny motioned him over as the person in the bed struggled to sit up.  At first, Harry thought that it was just a skeleton, somehow animated.  It took him a couple moments as he cautiously walked over to realize that it was just an extremely gaunt man.  Harry's brain was trying to tell him something, but his mind just couldn't seem to grasp it.  Instead of concentrating on figuring out what it was, he absorbed the man's appearance.

            Skeletal was certainly the correct first impression.  If there was any meat on the man's bones, it was certainly doing a good job at hiding.  Harry could almost count the ribs covered by the sheet.  The skin that was the only covering for the fragile bones was almost translucent and paper-thin.  The pallidness was accentuated by the scraggly black hair covering the top of his head, thin stringy strands limply lying on the pillow.  When Harry met the man's sunken, pale eyes, a washed-out blue-gray color, it finally hit him.

            "S- s- s-" He couldn't speak, his knees felt about to give out.

            "Harry," Sirius Black croaked, trying his damndest to sit up.

            Miraculously, Ginny was by Harry's side and hustled him to the bed before his legs could crumple.  As he sat down on the edge, still shocked speechless, Ginny propped Sirius up with a couple pillows. Then she kissed Harry on the cheek and headed for the door.

            "I'll leave you two alone," she said brightly.  "Just be quiet so Dumbledore doesn't catch you."

            Harry didn't want her to go, but couldn't think up a plausible excuse to keep her in the room before she left and closed the door behind her.  He was left alone in a room with a man he had been certain was dead only a few moments ago.

            He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

            Sirius wanted to reach out and hug his godson.  But… he couldn't.  First of all, he was too weak; he could barely move.  More importantly, it had been two years.  Many things could change in a shorter period of time.  Two years was certainly enough time to go through those ridiculous stages of grief, enough time to get over his death.  It was possible that Harry wouldn't want to bother with restarting a relationship of any sort.

            Harry stared at the skeleton-man in the bed, utter shock overwhelming his mind.  He couldn't formulate any coherent sentences for a _long_ time.  When he finally regained his voice, he said the first thing that came to mind.

            "My God, you look awful."

            A sober laugh rattled out of Sirius' throat.  "Being one of the living in the land of the dead tends to do that to you,' he said dryly.

            Abruptly, Harry lost his battle with his tears.  Hot, salty liquid was pouring down his cheeks before he realized he was crying.  He leaned down and hugged Sirius tightly, able to feel each and every bone in the older man's body.  Deep sorrow moved through him at this, but it was no contest to the fervent joy that was already there.

            Sirius held Harry as tightly as he could in his weakened condition.  They had told him that Voldemort was dead, that Harry had survived the epic battle.  Btu there was a piece of him, a large piece of him, that had refused to believe them.  The only proof it needed to keep the dark whisper in the back of his mind was that everyone refused to let him see his godson and they rarely talked about how he was doing.

            Now, all that constant fretting seemed ridiculous to him, the product of a restless mind suffering from cabin fever.  It was ridiculous to think that Dumbledore would have lied to him, that Moony would have too, along with everyone else.  His name was cleared, he was _alive_ again, Voldemort was dead, and Harry had survived.  Could life get better?

Harry's thoughts were running along similar lines.  His mind was still having a hard time wrapping around the sudden return of the first _family_ he had ever had.  Not ever having been a touchy-feely person, not even with Ginny, Harry was soon overcome by embarrassment at his tears and self-consciousness of the close contact.

            For a moment after he drew away, Sirius' eyes were sad.  Once in a while, he thought that he was back behind the veil, hallucinating all of this.  Perhaps he had stopped for a bit of a rest after traveling across the jagged landscape, tortured spirits dogging every step.  It was quite conceivable that he would wake to the land of the black sky and red sea, this all being a pleasant dream.  Having someone around him, talking to him, touching him helped to bring him back to reality during those times and reassure him that everything was real.  It got to the point where he wanted someone in the room, sitting next to him, all the time.

            Harry turned away for a moment to dry off his face and try to regain his self-control, Sirius taking a moment to do the same.  When he turned back, his godfather was studying him intently.

            "You look awful," the haggard man said matter-of-factly.  "But you grew up well."

            "Thanks," Harry replied, smiling softly.  The simple approval in the man's voice buoyed his spirits, for the first time _making_ him want to 'get better'.

            Cutting their time together short, Ginny popped back into the room.  "It's almost time for the nurse to come 'round again, Harry.  C'mon now, you have to get back to the ward."

            She skipped forward happily and hugged Sirius, pecking him on the cheek.  "See you tomorrow, Sirius.  Glad you were awake."

            "Thank you, Ginny."

            Harry hadn't remembered the two being that close, since they hardly knew each other before Sirius… and Ginny was just a child then.  He supposed that while he had been unconscious, Ginny must have been visiting Sirius, knowing that there were few who would be by to see the wrongly accused criminal.

            "Sneak back again soon, Harry, okay?" Sirius asked, his smile conspiratory but his eyes begging.

            "Soon as I can," Harry nodded, reluctant to leave.

            "Let's _go_ Harry."  Ginny grabbed his arm and began to pull him out of the room.  "I promise, I'll bring him back as soon as possible tomorrow, Sirius."

            She dragged Harry back to the other room, letting him lean almost his full weight against her in order to get there faster.  Just as he was sitting on the edge of the bed, the nurse with the pinched face came in, inspecting every bed and checking every patient.

~~End Chapter Five~~


	6. Chapter Six

Author:  The Wanlorn

Title: Apocalypse Return 6/6

Summary: It's all over.  But there's a surprise in it for Harry.

Rating: PG13

Spoilers: _Definitely_ The Death.  I mean, that's what spurred the whole thing.  

Pairing: Ron/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

Distribution: Anywhere, just ask first, okay?

Disclaimer: Everyone and all the places belong to JK Rowling.  Except for Lexi.  That character's mine.  The plot belongs to me.  No money is being made off of this.  It's purely because I enjoy doing useless things that will never get me any cash.

Thank Yous: Thank you Lexi for beta'ing.  I heart the way you edit my stuff!!!  :-P  Thanks to April for giving it a second once-over.  :-D  I heart you both!!!  Many thanks!

Author's Note: Well, then, this is the end.  All finished.  And contrary to what Lexi says, it's a FINE ending.

**Chapter Six**

            Harry always thought that leaving a hospital, being 'better', was a happy thing.  Everyone he knew always complained about being in a hospital and spouted afterwards about how good it was to be home.

            Of course, they all had a home to go to.

            He couldn't go back to the Dursleys', not after being thrown almost bodily onto the train with all of his meager belongings and told not to come back.  Ever.  Not that he was complaining – he was as glad that it was his final year as they were.  Had none of this happened, he wouldn't care that they had thrown him out.

            He couldn't impose on the Weasleys for much longer.  Off and on for the past years, he stayed with them for a while.  But even with most of the kids gone, there still wasn't much room in the house.  Besides, money was still tight for them, always tight, and they wouldn't let him pay any sort of rent when he stayed.  He couldn't do that to them any longer.

            But where else could he go, now that he was standing at the front desk as the witch there checked over his release forms, Ginny at his side.

            "Harry, honey, come on."  Ginny could see he was distracted and thinking hard, so she took the papers the witch was holding out and herded Harry towards the door, respecting his need to figure out whatever he was thinking about.

            For now, he would go with Ginny, go back to the Burrow.  Then from there, he could search for an apartment somewhere, in the wizarding world or not. But he didn't _want_ to do that, didn't _want_ to come home to an empty space for a year.  Ginny would move in with him once she finished at Hogwarts, as she always told him, that was a given.

            After the summer, he would be training to be an Auror.  Call him pathetic, lazy, or just plain _lonely_, he didn't want to return to his house every night (or weekend or holiday) and have to _think_ about how the front door needs to be fixed, the dishes done, bills paid, or whatever.  Next year, he could talk to Mr. Weasley, then ask Ginny to marry him, and pray she'd say yes.

            But for now, he wanted to know what it was like to have a family.  Not the Weasleys, where he was just sleeping over his best friend's house for an extended period of time but a place where _he_ was the actual son.

            In other words, he wanted to stay with Sirius.

            Just for a year, just until Ginny finished Hogwarts and he had fallen into the routine of Auror training.  That was all he was asking for.  Or, was trying to ask for.

            The problem was, he didn't know _how_ to ask.  Why would a grown man want an eighteen-year-old staying with him?  As soon as Sirius was released, Harry was pretty sure that this would be the first time since before Azkaban that Sirius would have a place all to his own, not be on the lam in any way, not have a horde of people underfoot, just be able to sit back and relax.  So why would he want a kid who was certainly old enough to be living on his own, living with him?  It wouldn't hurt to ask, he supposed.

            Truth be told, there was another reason.  He wanted to keep his eye on Sirius until the paranoia faded.  For the first couple days after the shock wore off, he sat talking to Sirius for hours at a time, not wanting to let him out of his sight for fear of it all turning out to be a dream.  Luckily, by the time Dumbledore realized that Ginny was sneaking Harry out, the headmaster realized that he had been wrong.  Or just didn't care anymore.

            It was a hard choice between which Harry was more fearful of - Sirius disappearing, or the rest of the people disappearing.  In the end, his guilt over being the more direct cause of Sirius' death as opposed to the rest of them won out.

            Sometimes, he could see the same fear in the older man's eyes, quickly hidden behind a laugh or a joke.  Sirius was just as afraid that this would all turn out to be a pleasant dream and he would find himself in the land of darkness again.

            Harry was distracted from his musings by the feeling of Ginny's arm slipping around his waist.  Later, he could think about all of this again, figure things out.  He would be back here soon, anyway, coming to visit Sirius until his godfather could go home, to wherever home was for him.  Now he could concentrate on Ginny and his freedom from everything.

----

            Sirius picked up the 'Daily Prophet' yet again to flip through it.  He had already read the articles a couple times - it sounded like Dumbledore had his work cut out for him - but there was nothing else to do.  Lupin just left.  None of the nurses were around to flirt with.  He had no clue when Harry was coming, if he was at all.

            This hospital was driving him insane.  He was well enough to leave, well enough to go to his house.  The place survived the war, unfortunately.  If he couldn't come up with a way to remove the paintings, especially the one of his mother, then the place would be sold.  Even if he could… That building made him miserable.  No sense staying somewhere that left a perpetual knot tightening in his stomach.

            Too much time to think.  He needed people to be around to keep his mind busy and off of his thoughts.  His mind kept going back to the night, so soon after he escaped from Azkaban, when he asked Harry if he would like to come and live with him.  How nervous he had been, expecting Harry to say no but hoping that he wouldn't.  The boy was James' son, and Sirius promised he would take care of him in the event of his best friend's untimely death.

            It was important to him to uphold that promise and honor his friend's memory.  But even more important was, whether he made that promise or not, he wanted Harry to stay with him.  After knowing him for only a few days, Sirius could see that Harry was miserable living with his aunt and uncle.  Knowing him longer, Sirius realized that he would be proud to have Harry as a 'son' and a friend.

            Now, he was a lonely old man and he made no bones about it.  Anywhere he lived now would seem too big, even after he found Buckbeak again.  The hippogriff had certainly become his best friend in his years of exile.  Dumbledore claimed that Buckbeak was informed that Sirius was alive, but Sirius wasn't sure if he was telling the truth.

            He was dancing around the main desire that his heart was trying to thrust forth.  He wanted to regain the lost years of his life.  That was impossible, but what he _did_ want that had a slight possibility of being attainable, was he wanted another _body_ in the house until he sold it, another human.

            He wanted to ask Harry because his godson was probably the only one who would truly understand the _why_ and not ask questions, not find it strange.  Harry wouldn't mind when Sirius woke up screaming in the middle of the night, because odds were, Harry would be up, too.

            But the boy wasn't a boy anymore.  He was eighteen, toeing the threshold between being a child and a man.  This was the time when Harry would _want_ to be out on his own, rejoicing in his newfound freedom.  He would never want to live with a pathetic man, once convicted (even if wrongly) of an unforgivable crime.  If anything, Harry would want to stay with the Weasleys from the way he talked.  Sirius and Mrs. Weasley had never gotten along, never agreed, and he feared that had rubbed off on Harry.  Admittedly, he hadn't shown any signs of it… yet.

            But he had nothing left to lose, so he might as well ask.

----

            "Remember when-"

            "Can I ask y-"

            "You go first," Sirius said as though he were doing Harry a favor.  But he was just glad that he would have even more to gather his thoughts.

            "Can I ask you something?" Harry tumbled right in, trying to get this over with so his stomach would return to normal.

            "Of course."

            Now, Harry fumbled for words.  "Well, uh… Remember how… When I as a Third Year… You said… Well, asked… if I ever wanted to leave the Durselys' I could come live with you?" he finished in a rush, staring at his feet.  He felt like a five-year-old again, asking for something and knowing that the answer was going to be a scathing no.  Except this time, it would be phrased more gently.

            Sirius' throat closed up, tears springing into his eyes.  "The offer's still open," he finally forced out.

            Slowly, Harry raised his head and met Sirius' eyes.  "Really?  It'd only be for a couple weeks, once you get out of here.  I just don't want to impose on the Weasleys any longer." He was babbling, he knew, and forced himself to stop.

            "Really," Sirius reassured him, beginning to smile a little.  "You can stay for as long as you want."

            A grin spread across Harry's face.  Things were looking up.

*Fin*

~~September 28, 2003~~


End file.
